


Five Stories

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bingo, Canon Compliant, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five different short stories from a bingo in X-Men: First Class Bingo card. Originally posted at Dreamwidth, 2013. Revised and rewritten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fixer

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. AU - Boarding School (Alex, Hank, Sean)  
> 2\. AU - Fusion (Moira, Sean, Emma)  
> 3\. Angel and Raven  
> 4\. AU - Lord and Vassal (Raven, Hank)  
> 5\. Loss of powers (Alex, Darwin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex needs more phone cards and he has to go ask them from McCoy.

Alex stood behind the third bookshelf from the door, the Biology section. From here he could see McCoy sitting at his usual table, several books open in front of him. He looked busy. Alex wasn't sure if he should bother him right now, but time was an issue. He bit his fingernail, trying to decide what to do. He couldn't hide behind a bookshelf all evening, the librarian would eventually come ask what he wanted. 

McCoy never fixed anything for free. If he was smart, he would turn around and go back to his room, but if he gave up with the plan, it would be same as giving up on Darwin. He wasn't ready to do that.

Alex straightened his back, held his book bag against his chest like a shield. He took a deep breath and stepped around the bookshelf, walking straight to McCoy's table. He pulled a chair and sat down, staring at him.

McCoy kept writing without a pause. Alex waited, and when it became clear he ignored him on purpose, Alex coughed.

McCoy finished the sentence, his handwriting straight as arrow across the page, before glancing at him.

"Yes?"

"I need a favor."

He frowned, like he had never heard anyone say that before. “I'm sorry?”

"Phone cards,” Alex said quick, deciding to get it out before McCoy would tell him to leave. “I need phone cards.”

“The administration is on the third floor. You can buy phone cards from the secretary during the office hours."

"I'm low on funds, someone said you might be able to help."

McCoy pushed his glasses up, frowning again. "Who said that?"

Alex shrugged in reply. He wasn't going to rat on Sean. Besides, he was sure McCoy knew what people spoke about him. He had to be, to stay in business. Alex was sure his question was a simple test to see if Alex was stupid enough to give up some names. He wasn't, that's for sure.

"So, cards?" Alex prompted.

”How many?” McCoy asked, turning a new page from his notebook.

”Ten,” Alex said, not daring to ask for the actual amount he needed. “And I need them now?”

McCoy looked at him again, now with more interest. Alex leaned back, crossing his arms in defense. He needed a favor, not judgment. McCoy tapped his pen against the notebook.

”That's a lot of phone cards. Why do you need them?”

”None of your business. You got them or not?”

”Phone cards are a hot commodity, easy to move,” he said quietly, twirling the pen in his fingers. ”I can sympathize about your lack of finances, but you do understand that I will know if you try to sell them again. It won't end well for you.”

Alex had heard what had happened those that had tried to compete with McCoy. Dozen different stories circled around the school about him, how he had gotten people expelled, scared some kid out of his wits. Alex was sure most of the stories were bullshit, but some of it could be true. That made him cautious.

”I don't care about your business, I just need those phone cards, alright? They are all for me, I swear.”

He shrugged. ”I don't know you.”

”Does that mean you won't give them to me?”

”Take it as you like. Now go away, I have a paper to write.”

Alex wanted to reach over the table and toss his books and papers all over his smug face. Instead he got up, took his bag and walked out of the library. He went straight outside and smacked his bag against the frozen ground.

”Shit!”

He didn't know what else to do. He needed those cards. Without them, he would never find Darwin. He sat down on the stairs, staring up to the cold sky and breathing in the crisp air. He figured he would just sit here and let the snow cover him. That would be a fitting end for such a loser. 

The door opened behind him, and he heard Sean coming down the stairs. 

”What happened?” he asked, sitting down next to him.

”It was a bust,” Alex said. “He wouldn't give me the cards.”

”What did you offer?”

”He didn't give me a chance to offer anything! He thought I would sell those cards.”

”Yeah, well, did you tell him you wouldn't?”

”I tried. The good it did.” Alex kicked his bag. “Fuck! Now what?”

”He doesn't know you, that's the problem,” Sean said. “You have explain the situation to him, that will make the difference. He has a soft spot for problems like that.”

”I'm not telling that asshole anything.”

”Do you have a better plan?” Sean stood up and offered his hand. “You know I would give you money if I had any, but I lost my allowance in the poker game. I'm skint until next month. So take your bag, go back inside, and tell McCoy you need those cards because you have lost your boyfriend.”

”Shut up,” Alex muttered, smacking his hand away.

”Special friend? Gentleman caller? Love muffin?” Sean offered with a smirk.

“Ok, stop it!” Alex got up and picked up the bag from the ground, brushing off the dirt. ”If I tell him, what will stop him from telling everyone? I don't want this going around the school.”

”Information is currency around here, dummy. McCoy knows a lot of secrets, that's why no one wants to mess with him. Too much to lose, right?”

Alex shook his head. ”I don't want to.”

”It's not the worst possible thing that he knows. Trust me. C'mon.”

Sean walked with him back to the library and nudged him inside. Alex went back to the far corner, where McCoy still sat in the same position, the pen moving steadily over the paper. He was halfway through the notebook. Alex pulled the chair and sat down without waiting for McCoy to notice him. 

McCoy looked up, surprised. ”You again.”

”Yeah. I really need those cards.”

”Third floor, secretary's office. I can write down the directions for you if you want.”

”Cut the crap. I know you got cards. I'm willing to buy them.”

”I believe you said you are low on funds?”

Alex nodded, trying hard to stay calm.

”Then I don't understand what you want me to do.” McCoy leaned back on his chair, snapping the pen against the notebook page. “Do you suggest that I should give them to you for free?”

”We get one sixty minute card every month, right? You give me ten now, and I'll give mine to you, for the next ten months,” Alex offered. It was a fair trade.

“That only makes us even. Where's the profit?” McCoy noted. “Besides, if you get caught with ten cards, there's going to be an investigation how you got them, then I'm in trouble too, do you understand? I need to know why you need that many cards.”

Alex considered it for a moment. “I need to track down my friend, alright? I think he's in trouble, and I have to find him. I can't go looking for him, obviously, so I have to call around.”

“And you need ten hours of phone calls for that? Must be an important friend.”

“He's my boyfriend.” Alex crossed his arms, deciding he wouldn't say anything more about it, and if McCoy made any kind of remark, he would punch him.

Instead McCoy nodded, like he had gotten Alex all figured out now, and turned the pages of his notebook, until he reached the back cover. The phone cards were lodged there in a neat row. He selected one and pushed it over the table. It was like any other standard issue phone card Alex had seen, white with the school logo on green. The only difference was that there was a small golden dot in the right side corner.

“I'll take your ten cards, and top of that, you owe me a favor. One day, I'll ask you to do something, and you'll do it, without questions. Deal?”

Alex reached for the card and slid it to his side. “How much is in it?”

“It shows sixty minutes, but it's a cracked card. When its empty, pull the card out, change the phone, and there will be sixty minutes again.”

Alex stared at it like the card had turned to gold in his hands.

McCoy turned the pages back to where he had been writing. "Good luck finding your friend. Now go away, and don't bother me again."

"Thank you," Alex said and got up, grabbing his bag. If he moved fast, he could get few phone calls done before the curfew. He would find Darwin, he was sure of it. This had to be a good omen. It had to be.


	2. Different Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira has her on-again-off-again boyfriend sleeping on her mattress, when her friend Emma brings some interesting news. Burn Notice fusion.

_My name is Moira MacTaggert. I used to be a spy. Until I ended up on the blacklist._

_When you're burned, you've got nothing: no cash, no credit, no job history. You're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in. In my case: Miami, Florida._

_You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone who's still talking to you. A trigger-happy ex-boyfriend, an old friend who used to inform on you to the FBI, and family too...if you're desperate._

_But the bottom line? Until you figure out who burned you... You're not going anywhere._

Moira leaned her hip against the kitchen counter and watched Sean sleep on her mattress. He took most of the space sprawled like that, arm slung over his eyes, the sheet tangled around his wisp thin waist. It had been awhile since he had been in her bed, for one, and even longer since she had watched him sleep. 

She sighed and scooped the last of the blueberry yogurt from the cup. Their relationship had always been complicated, but this was a new low. Or new high, depending which direction they were headed. There was no casual sex between them, unfortunately.

“Damn,” Moira muttered to herself and scraped the bottom of the cup before tossing it in the trash. She should've put a stop to it when Sean had walked in, wanting to talk. She hated the talks, but Sean knew how to push her buttons. 

The bass line from the downstairs club thrummed in the walls, but she still caught the sound on the stairs, the snap of high heels. Moira had a back-up gun in the kitchen drawer and she pulled it out quietly, holding it pointed at the door. She could guess who was coming, but she hadn't made this far by being careless. People did have a nasty habit breaking in the loft after all. The lock rattled and the door opened, the electronic music streaming in with the pink neon light.

The light woke Sean and he stumbled up, Walther PPK in his hand, the stainless steel finish gleaming in the slanted light. The move was more learned instinct than actual wakefulness, and for a split second Moira worried he would shoot Emma right there in the doorway.

”Easy, it's me,” Emma said, stopping for a short moment until Sean's sleep fuddled brain registered there was no danger and he clicked the safety back on. 

”Right, you,” he said, uninterested, slipping the gun back under the pillow before plopping back down and tossing his arm over his eyes again.

Emma gave her a pointed look. “What's with all the hostility? In my experience, people are in better mood after they get laid.”

Moira rolled her eyes and slipped her gun back to the drawer, nudging it shut with her hip. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans with your new boy toy.”

Emma walked to the fridge, handing her a brown envelope in passing. “I found this in my car an hour ago. I think it would interest you.” She opened the fridge and took a beer. 

Moira turned the envelope in her hands. “What's this?” 

Emma pressed the beer bottle against the counter and slammed her hand down, the cap clattering somewhere on the floor. “Remember that guy I dated a few years back? The one who ditched me for some jailbait stripper, and emptied my bank account and sunk my yacht on his way out?”

“Sure, you were pissed for months.”

“Well, now he's dead and there's the proof,” Emma said brightly, raising the bottle in mock salute. “Cheers!”

“And you came to tell me this because you want to throw a party?” Moira ventured, eying her dress. She wore what ever she wanted, and didn't care what anyone had to say about it. This time her dress glimmered in aqua blue, the sequins big as fish scales, her hair whiter than usual. She looked like a frosted shot of Curaçao, but on Emma's standards that was borderline pedestrian.

Emma smirked. “Look in the envelope.”

Moira opened the envelope and tipped it over the counter. There was a bundle of photographs, glossy prints from an autopsy. She flipped through them. Emma tended to change men on a whim, but Moira was sure she recognized the yacht sinker on the metal slab. He was dead, that was for sure.

She stopped at the picture of the skull, the skin pulled down to show the mark left on the bone. She took the photo closer to the light, noticing the millimeter reading from the ruler placed next to the fracture. Small and narrow hit on something that had sunk deep in the skull. She had a cold feeling in the back of her neck. She had seen an identical wound in another morgue, during one of her tours through the East-Europe.

“It can't be.”

“I'll save you from reading the report attached, it's boring. The coroner gave a list of things that would fit the shape, and a coin was somewhere in the middle of it.”

“But Lehnsherr is dead,” Moira said, slipping the photographs back in the envelope and pushing them back to her. “Last year, some altercation in South-America. I saw the report and it was damn thorough.”

“Oh please, like faking a report is that hard,” Emma scoffed. “Or faking your death, especially with the connections like Lehnsherr's.”

“True.” Moira stared at the envelope. "You found the photos in your car? That doesn't sound like his style though. He likes the drama, the big entrance. He won't go around dropping subtle hints about his resurrection. If he's back, it's going to be an event."

Emma shrugged. “Maybe it's not him, maybe it is, but the envelope wasn't the only thing I got. Someone from his old crew called, asked if I would set up a meeting with you and I agreed.”

Moira stared at her in stunned silence. Sean sat up, alert, his hair a tousled mess. “You did what? Have you finally lost it?”

“The guy is in town tomorrow," Emma continued like he had said nothing. "I think you should meet with him. I don't know anyone else who hates the Establishment,” she made air-quotes, ”than Lehnsherr's old crew. Enemy of my enemy, that sort of thing.”

“I doubt they'll see it that way,” Moira said and took a swig of her beer. “I might be in the sidelines now, but I wasn't when we met. And it wasn't a friendly meeting.”

“Near death experiences tend to make people see things in new light,” Emma noted.

"I don't know. Lehnsherr is the type to hold a grudge, I don't think his crew is any different.."

“That guy is one card short of a full deck, threw me out the window once,” Sean said. “I'm not going anywhere near him. If he's alive, which I don't belief either. Any chump can hammer a coin through someones head, doesn't mean it's Lehnsherr.”

“You can be the spotter then,” Emma said brightly and left the half-empty beer bottle on the counter, reaching to take the envelope before heading to the door. “We'll take your car tomorrow, right?”

“Em...”

She waved to her objections. “Go back to your fun. Call me in the morning. Not too early though, I'm having a wake.”

Emma closed the door behind her, and Moira sighed. It would be smart to stay away from trouble like Lehnsherr, but Emma was right. No one had the dirt on the black ops like Lehnsherr's crew, and it never hurt to build up some connections. Especially when Lehnsherr, or someone pretending to be him, had approached with the meeting. That alone was curious enough. Something interesting was definitely going on, and it could help finding out who gave her burn notice.

She walked to the mattress, pulling her tank top over her head before getting back to bed. She laid next to Sean, leaning against his shoulder. His skin was cool under her cheek.

“You know it's a mistake,” he said quietly, trailing his fingers down her arm.

“Yes, but it's not my first one.”

Sean laughed. “I hope you don't mean me.”

“No, you are a problem. Lucky for you, I like problems,” she said, reaching to kiss him. “Keeps life interesting.”


	3. The Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls have time to waste and they go to the movies.

”This movie doesn't even have color,” Raven noted, snatching the bag of candy from Angel's lap. ”Boring!”

”We can go back wait outside, if you want. I'm sure the rain will end eventually,” she pointed out, slumping down on the worn seat and propping her legs up on the seat in front of her. ”I mean, you can only get so wet.”

”Ooh, that sounds dirty.” Raven ripped the bag open, propping her legs up the same way as Angel. She took a candy and put it in her mouth, then spit it right back out on the floor. ”Eew. What is this candy?”

”I don't know, we couldn't find a common language with the girl at the counter, so I just pointed at what looked good. What does it taste like?”

”Disgusting. Like coconut and something salty. Ugh.”

”Let me try.”

Angel picked one pink and black candy from the bag and took a cautious bite from one corner. Raven stared at her, watching her reaction. Angel chewed it thoughtfully before smirking.

”Tastes alright. I'll eat them if you don't want to.”

”Then what am I supposed to eat?”

”Go buy some popcorn. I have some money left, can't use this currency in the next country anyway. Point what you want, the girl will write the price on a piece of paper. It worked fine.”

”No, too much trouble, I don't like popcorn that much. And I want to see this movie.” She turned to look at the screen. The theater wasn't big, a size of a large living room. The screen was crammed at the end, edges of the image curving on the wall. There was only ten rows of seats and they sat in the back, the only people there. Humphrey Bogart talked with Lauren Bacall, their discussion going back and forth in amazing speed. ”What's this about?”

”You've never seen The Big Sleep? It's a classic!” Angel said

”I can tell it's a classic because it's black and white.”

Angel laughed and snagged the candies back to her lap. “Bogart is Philip Marlowe, a PI. Bacall is this rich, jetset girl whose sister is in trouble. Her dad hires Marlowe to help, and things get strange. There's all these people, and not all of it makes sense.”

“But you like it?”

Angel shrugged, taking another candy from the bag. “I saw it when I was a kid, and for the longest time I wanted to be a private eye when I grew up. You know, with the snazzy hat and a gun, an office with a logo on the door. Dramatic light when you sit behind your desk.”

“And mysterious dames as clients, with wads of money and old husbands they want dead?”

“Of course,” Angel said. “That's why you have the gun.”

Raven laughed. “Oh, I've seen you shoot. The husbands would die in old age before you managed to hit them.”

Angel smacked her shoulder. “Shut it. You are no Annie Oakley either.” She took another piece of candy, turning it in the flickering light to see the color before popping it in her mouth. “What did you want to be?”

“Me? I don't remember.”

“Sure you do. A ballerina? Firefighter? Weather girl?”

“It might have something to do with food, I was always hungry when I was a kid...” Raven thought about it, staring at the screen. “I remember I wanted to learn how to make those big wedding cakes, you know, with all that white frosting and the complicated structure underneath that kept them from toppling. I remember wanting to build a cake as tall as I was.”

“So basically, you wanted to be an architect?”

Raven smirked. “That's right. Or an engineer.”

They watched the movie for a while. It was odd, but funny too, in sort of old-fashion way.

“I don't think I would've been any good making wedding cakes,” Raven said when the rapid dialogue on the screen had a short lull. “I would've had the overwhelming urge to poke my finger in the frosting. You know? Scoop a fistful of cake and scarf it down. Knock over the porcelain couple on the top.”

“There's something so wrong about those topper couples,” Angel said. “They're too happy. I think they're high.”

“They smoked some porcelain weed,” Raven said and laughed. “They sit on top of the cake, shotgunning, and that's why they call it the shotgun wedding.”

Angel laughed. “Right? That's what it should mean.”

Raven reached to take one more candy and Angel held the bag out for her. She chose one and tried it, nibbling the corner. “This one is better, the yellow one.”

“I'll save those, you can have them,” Angel said and pointed at the screen. “Look, that's the sister. She's going to be trouble.”

“That's family for you."

Angel said nothing, only pushed the bag of candy toward her. Raven took it, digging around for the yellow one. 

“If Az doesn't show up after this, do you want to go drinking?” Raven asked, changing the topic. 

"Emma would flip if we go back drunk," Angel said, smirking. "I'll do it if you do it."


	4. Inspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Raven wants to see what her new vassal lands look like.

”And this is the area you plan to cut down this year?” Raven asked. 

They had stopped at the edge of a thicket that turned into denser forest after few yards. She wasn't riding her own purebred, but a smaller, wheat colored mare with a steadier gait and calm temper. Henry had suggested it for her and it had been a good choice. They had ridden through some rough terrain this morning, and Raven was sure her purebred would've put up a mighty fuss by now. The mare didn't seem to mind the least. She patted its neck.

”That way we can sow rye there next year, my lady.” Henry shifted in his saddle, his eyes watery from the wind. He had the pallor of a man who spent most of his time indoors, and he held the reins of his horse clumsily. Despite his obvious discomfort, he hadn't objected when Raven had asked to see all the sites he had planned to improve. 

“Or perhaps barley,” Henry continued, in the careful way he tend to say everything. “I wanted to study the differences, to see what grain would give the best harvest in this soil. Turnip should do well, I've been told.”

Henry looked at her expectantly. During her stay, she had learned that meant he waited to be rebuffed for his ideas. Apparently the former lord hadn't approved any changes made to the vassal lands. After his death, and the war, the King had seen best to hand these lands to Raven's care. She had decided to take definite interest what her vassals did or didn't do with the land granted to them. 

She had enjoyed her stay here. Henry was different from the knights and the nobility that swarmed in the court. Instead empty compliments and elaborate requests for more money and land, Henry had discussed with her how he planned to cultivate the soil, the ideas for the new mill, how he wanted to support the rebuilding of the small fishing villages down the coast. His plans were excellent, but rather large in scale. Raven suspected that it was too much work for one man to oversee. Still, she wished more of her vassals were as passionate of their land and people as Henry was.

Raven looked around, the thicket continuing far into the forest. “Are you certain you'll have enough work force to do it now?”

“I trust I have enough workers, my lady. Since the war ended, there has been vagrant men going through here toward the capitol. We've hired those who had wanted the work. There are some farms left vacant, but I trust we will soon entice more farmers across the border. New families, or independent folk. This is good land, my lady. It won't be unattended for long.”

“You don't fear any civil unrest? Plenty of new people moving into the area might cause some tension.” Raven ushered her horse back up the little hill, on the narrow road that would take them back to the castle grounds.

“Our sheriff is an intelligent woman, she is well aware what happens in the villages. I'm hoping there won't be much problems, ma'am, but we are ready to deal with them.” He followed her in leisured pace, his horse more interested about the tufts of grass than following his directions.

Raven heard the quiet scoffs behind them. The knights on her personal guard didn't think much of a noble man who couldn't control his horse, but no one had the audacity to say anything out loud. She didn't give them a single glance. She had heard their talk. The knights couldn't understand how a noble man was interested about studying and building things, inventions, and didn't know the first thing about how to control a horse. But Raven would've rather had few more visionaries like Henry, than more soldiers dumber than rocks.

“You take great care of your lands, I must compliment you,” Raven said, when they were back in the road. “I have visited most of the regions given to my care, and I belief that you have the most sensible plan to rebuild and improve this area. Very thorough.”

“Thank you, my lady, I'm happy to hear you approve.”

They rode slowly on, the cold wind catching in her hair and pulling it free from the golden ribbon. They passed people on the field, old women and young children, pulling potatoes out of the black soil. The women straightened up when they passed, leaning in their spading forks and curtsying in quick bobs, the smaller children waving shyly. Raven waved back, smiling. It had been part of her agenda, to be seen, to give people idea who she was. The women turned back to their work and Raven turned back to Henry.

“You are a smart man, but I've noticed you shy to ask me favors,” Raven said, teasing him. Henry blushed. “I find it odd, I must have to admit, ” Raven continued with a smile. “Usually I've barely gotten inside the castle when I've been approached with a demand or a request. I've been here for several days, and you haven't come to me with any requests. Or have you asked me so cautiously that I haven't paid attention to it?”

“I did not know you expected me to ask something, my lady. I only wish you have had a pleasant stay?”

“I have, thank you,” Raven said. “I understood you have no siblings. It must be lonesome living here, without a family. Have you had a chance to consider a marriage yet?”

“Father passed before he could think about the matter with any seriousness, my lady.”

He said it with a calm, reasonable way, like he was still discussing the finer points of agriculture. But Raven picked up a glimmer of sadness in him, like he had had some hopes there, but now they were gone. She understood that. It would be difficult to arrange a proper marriage without some help.

“You are welcome to join my court come the winter,” Raven said. “There are plenty young and suitable ladies from good families who would be pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm sure we could find you a wife before next summer.”

“Thank you for the offer my lady, but I'm needed here. I possibly couldn't leave my studies and home.”

“Can you study soil in the winter, since the ground is frozen?”

“Well, I thought I would take some samples, my lady. Draw some plans.”

“You could not spare a month for some festivities in the Midwinter? Bit of dancing? That will always put you in favor among the ladies. You would be a great success.”

“Thank you, my lady. I'm not much of a dancer.” Henry blushed. “I fear I would be a disappointment to the ladies of your court.”

Raven laughed brightly. “But that way there's room for learning! You will have plenty of willing teachers, I'm sure. Wouldn't you consider it? I would like to repay your hospitality.”

“If it pleases you, my lady,” Henry said, sounding less than enthusiastic.

“Good, that's settled then. I will find you a wife.” Raven said and reached to pat his arm. “We will have great fun.”

She turned back to look at the road, and didn't notice the hopeful look that rose to Henry's eyes.


	5. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is cold and Darwin tries to keep him warm.

”It's cold.”

”I know, I'm sorry, hang on a second.” Darwin pulled the covers over their shoulders, the thermal blanket rustling like paper. He wrapped his hand around Alex's waist and pulled him as close to his chest as he could. ”Better?”

Alex nodded.

Darwin knew that was only for his benefit, not the actual truth. Alex's skin didn't warm to the touch, he was pale, shivers running along his back. It was wrong that he would slowly freeze, indoors, in the middle of the summer and they couldn't do anything to stop it.

His powers were gone, and with it, his thermoregulation. His body couldn't maintain its usual temperature, and it kept plummeting down, then shooting up again in irregular intervals. Now he was in the down swing, and all Darwin could do was keep him warm and calm. This seemed to work the best, their bare skin against each other, under the thermal blanket. He shifted to tug his legs between his.

”Tell Hank I don't want him poking me with needles anymore,” Alex said, his voice a whisper. ”His aim sucks.”

”It would be easier if you tried to stay still when he draws blood,” Darwin said, as lightly as he could. It pained him to see Alex' bandaged arms. “They will figure this out, don't worry. It's like a science conference downstairs. Charles has cashed in every favor.”

“It won't help.”

“Don't say that.” He squeezed him closer. “You'll be fine.”

“No. I think it's...karma.”

“What do you mean?”

Alex was quiet for a long time. Outside the window, the evening sun beamed the last rays down on the green grass, turning the trees peach and pink. During the day, they had tried to keep him in the sunlight as much as possible, let the energy seep into him. It helped, slightly, but during the night his temperature would stagger down again. Alex couldn't harness the energy like he used to. Something had changed, and no one knew what it was.

“What's karma?” Darwin asked, to bring him back. The first thing that went when his core temperature dropped was coherence. He got confused. It was a danger sign. Hank wanted to stay on the noninvasive methods for the moment, but he had said they should start thinking giving him warm saline through an IV, to prevent the dehydration and shore up his core temperature through the lowest stages.

Darwin knew Alex would be against it. He hated needles.

“I hurt you. My powers burned away. Karma. All the bad deeds...Came to haunt me.”

“I'm sure that's not how karma works,” Darwin said. “And your powers will come back, they are not burned away. Wait and see.”

Alex nodded, but Darwin knew he didn't belief that. He never did, no matter how many times Darwin tried to tell him. He was a bonehead. And Darwin loved him, and he wasn't going to let him die.

“I hate cold.”

Darwin pulled him even closer, like he was about to fuse into his skin. He wished he didn't have a reactive mutation, that he could simply turn into the kind of warmth Alex needed. But he couldn't. He only knew how to survive that energy, not how to create it. Not that it would help anyway, the power had to come from Alex himself.

“Let's talk about something warm. Like...Aruba.”

“What's Aruba?” Alex muttered.

“Island in the Caribbean Sea. It has a dry climate, warm and sunny all the time, and white sandy beaches,” Darwin said, trying to remember more details. “Capital is Oranjestad. Official language is Dutch.”

“How do you know?”

“I read it from a travel guide,” Darwin said. “I had a whole bunch of those, got them from a bookstore for free when they had water damage. Don't like Aruba? Then how about...Australia? It's warm there. And there's a city called Darwin. It's the capitol of Northern Territory.”

Alex laughed, the sound quiet but recognizable.

“Like that idea? That's where we go when you feel better. See the Australian desert.”

“Yes. Let's go,” Alex muttered. "I want to see Darwin."

"I tell Hank to get the plane ready," Darwin said, and he was sure Alex' skin felt already warmer. “Just you and me.”


End file.
